


It's A Father Daughter Thing

by WorldsFool



Category: A Nightmare on Elm Street - All Media Types
Genre: Father-Daughter Relationship, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-20 01:16:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 6,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19983640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WorldsFool/pseuds/WorldsFool
Summary: He did his best for his baby girl.





	1. It's A Bonding Moment Thing

**Author's Note:**

> This is a very old story that's been on my laptop since for 10 years. It was once on Fanfiction.net and now it's on here. I don't see any Freddy/Kathryn stories that go into study about Freddy's relationship with his daughter and figured I write one myself.
> 
> This is mostly to get it off my laptop and on someplace people can read. Like I said, it's very old. Have mercy.

Childhood is meant to be simple; a time for a little girl to grow in ignorance to the hard cruel world, a time when she’s meant to scribble the walls with crayons and make shapes in the clouds. It’s a time that she’s meant to share with her parents, both of which should be at her side until she’s grown up.

The second she had been born, he tried his best to be there for her. He tried his best to make sure she was happy and that she would always have a smile on her face. He tried his best to keep her safe from the world and himself.

He had taken all precaution, bolting a lock to the door and making sure to check twice that it was locked. He had warned Loretta not to go in the room; he had warned her. Even as he had his hands around her neck he had warned her, repeating it through his teeth as he tightened his hands around her neck.

It was one of the good old days, back before it would have ever passed in his mind that he would be invading dreams and killing children as they slept.

It was a sunny day, with small shaped clouds in the bright blue sky and birds singing in the branches. She had pointed out every small face she saw and he lay down with her in the grass and encouraged her with his own faces and creatures of the clouds.

That day he would chase her around the garden in the back yard and hold her in his arms, while she laughed and tried to get away from his tickling fingers. That day he would count to ten and she would hide as best as she could behind tree's and in the little playhouse she had.

He taught her tag that day.

"One two, one two, Daddy's coming for you." He laughed and ducked under the branches as he circled around the tree. He found her frame huddled against the bark, peeking around the opposite corner he came from.

He surprised her, poking her stomach and getting an eruption of giggles. He ran off playfully, making sure she was given the chance to keep up with him. 

"You're it." He teased and zigzagged back and forth. "You know what you gotta do now?" He smiled as she ran around, trying to catch him.

"You gotta tag me." She laughed and ran to him, her arms stretched out to catch him. He couldn't help but smile and reach down with his arms outreached. "That's right." He grinned.

"Come to Daddy."

He taught her tag, that day.


	2. It's A Freddy Thing

_An open adoption; In which all rights of the birth parents are turned over to the adoptive parents. The birth parents are able but not always guaranteed to see the birth child when an open adoption has been set._

_Not that he'd ever want to see his mother to begin with._

He hid his smirk as the paper was signed at the hands of the alcohol influenced judged dragged the grapple, shaking he raised it before he slammed it down on the table. He was free, either by sheer luck or there was some grand master plan in god's eyes for him. If god had a plan it was certainly for him to just have his fun with his revenge.

He almost scoffed; what god? His god was the glove on his desk back in the basement his 'special office' at home. A few he kept at the Plant, his secret hideout. He had told Kathyrn when she had asked and that proved to be his mistake.

Oh Kathryn, how could ever be mad at her? She was the one who turned him in, the one who told on him after he had specifically told her to keep it a secret, and now she was gone from him. Taken away like his breath was when the officers came and kicked open his door.

They deemed him unfit as a father, he cursed his police officer of a neighbor for sticking his nose in where it didn't belong. The picture of that fucking officer's daughter was defiantly going to be next on and in his scrap book 'o' killing.

But Kathryn, yes, when he got her back he'd definitely have to give her a good 'spanking.' However young or old she would be.

He was walked down the red carpet isle, stands of chairs filled the parents of Elm all hissed and sneered at him, declaring the judge was wrong, that he was the killer. They had no evidence to prove him, he was only there because of a hunch and being the most suspicious man when his wife went missing.

The point is that he was set free.

He stayed at the factory, long still abandoned since it went down back before he started to kill. Staying at home was just silly, not with all his 'fellow parents' as riled up as they were, it was practically declaring for them to kill him.

He was smart though, packing up everything he needed and getting it out, they knew however he was still around, he still killed. Now, his sights were on that little tomboy soccer player that belonged to his policeman neighbor.

The factory was around the dead parts of town, some places still running. People there no idea the maximum of his terror, that was just how much that side had been blind from Springwood. The only thing they knew was from papers, which they didn't bother to pay enough attention to when they saw his face.  
He was never recognized, but that didn't mean he didn't _get_ _recognized_. Days before his release from trial the paper was out, after that a new forum.

**'Amanda Krueger Gone Missing'**

This had caught his eyes out of everything, as he leaned back in his work chair and glanced over the panel. He never knew much of his mother, never even or even met the bitch. His eyes glanced to the picture of the woman in the Missing bin. He snorted, thanking that he had gotten his father/s/ looks.

They always said mother was god in the eyes of her child.

The only god he knew was the one he flexed on his hand, before turning to the young girl who coward against the wall.


	3. It's A Home Thing

He watched his little girl like a hawk. He was tortured as a child, he grew up being tortured, it only made sense that he would die tortured. Now, he was nothing more than a tortured ghost.

The smell of his own burnt, and rotting flesh made his nose curl in disgust. He'd have to get used to the smell of burnt skin and smoke. Everything still burned, as if that fire was still over him, lapping at him like a whore dreaming for good payment.

His heart however was encased in ice; thick, frozen, cold ice. It had been since his first kill--that bastard who he was meant to call father. It just got colder and colder with each child he got his hands on.

Until he was blessed with Kathryn.

Sweet, sweet little Kathryn.

He watched with clouded blue eyes from his chair at his little girl as she sat alone at her coloring table. All the other kids avoiding her like the plague but she continued to draw her picture.

That was his little girl, a trooper.  
  
Ignoring all the whispers and the taunts, the little boys sneering at her like she was a dirty dog on the streets. Brown hair, green eyes. Blond hair, blue eyes. Red hair, brown eyes. He made his mental note of the looks and faces of who he'd make scream tonight.

While his little Kathryn would sleep peacefully.

A smile tugged to his crusted and chapped lips as she picked up a green crayon in her little hand, dropping the red she had she continued her picture. He could only wonder what she was drawing but knew he'd find out soon enough.

What a time if his little girl could see him now. Would she scream? No, she wouldn't, she was his little girl. She'd come crying to him, asking him to hold her and take her away from this horrible place.

He couldn't do that though, No, but he could give her sweet dreams. He could appear and kiss her little forehead and tell her a story while in another he was cutting up piggy's like a butcher.  
  
His blue eyes widened under the trim of his dusty burn Fedora, she settled down the green and stood up as the nanny of the orphanage came over to inspect her playtime work.

Curly brown hair kept short, white pearl earrings to big for her ears, a white shirt and blue jacket vest with the same color dressing, bubbly green eyes and pale pink lipstick. Something about her to him just screamed 'bitch.'

"What did you draw, Kathryn?" She seemed to hiss the name, as if it didn't belong to the young girl. All the children in the orphanage weren't at rights to their names, they would be taken away as soon as they got new parents.

If there were any kids by the time a new set of 'parents' came along.

"Me, Daddy, and Mommy." She answered.

'Don't, Baby Girl.' He thought. 'You don't have to answer her.' Tapping the index of his bladed hand on his knee.

"Oh." The woman sneered a smile. "Well, why don't you put your name on it and I'll hang it up?'" She smiled at his daughter and he had to ignore the little pleasant sensation of having dug his blade into his knee.

Kathryn did such before the picture was snatched out of her hand and taken away from her. She wore a pout before bed time was called for and stood from her seat, passing her invisible guardian angel along the way.

He had to ignore his fatherly urge to pick her up and hold her but it only increased as he saw the picture drawn. Hanging on the push pin board surrounded by many other drawings from the children was his daughters picture.

For an instant that cold heart of his was melted-

Before he ripped down the pictures that belonged to the trio of teasers. He smirked and tapped his knee with his index claw. Humming a merry tune as he shifted up the stairs to give his daughter a ghost of a good night kiss, and give those boys a piece of his mind.

The picture was of him, his baby girl, and his long dead wife. Standing in front of the house with the sun shining, smoke leaving the chimney.

Home is where the heart is. So, Kathryn took him with her.


	4. It's A Hereditary Thing

She stared at me, big brown eyes, they reminded me of her mother. Fuck, everything reminded me of her mother. When she was little she had my blond traits but after all these years she had grown brunette, cut that hair that I always liked in pigtails…So I made her wear it up like that, pulled her locks back in those candy red ribbons.

She had grown no doubt. She had her mother's hips but my lips. She had her mother's cheekbones but I saw the crook of my nose. Her legs were long, a sign of age yes, but were perfect when I forced her into that old dress…Being a demon of dreams had lots of perks.

Physically she got most from her bitch of a mother, including that damned curiosity. She went into my room as a little girl and she went into my room as an adult. I couldn't stay mad at her. I could look it however, tapping my finger blades against my leg, letting my foot tap along with it, hearing the echo in the dream basement.

With how sharp she was glaring at me…Studying me…I could be wrong. No, I was wrong, she does have my eyes. How bright they flashed with determination as she marched to me.  
  
I tested her memory, stopping her in her tracks with the picture she had drawn so long ago in the orphanage. I grinned at her.

"You were such a little artists." She backed away. My little Kathryn, so full of doubt. Her fingers shook at her sides before she soothed them down her dress, swinging her head in denial.

"No, it can't be…" I chuckled at her refusal to accept the inevitable. She had most definitely gotten her stubbornness from me. Her eyes flashed, once more becoming strong as she clutched her hands into fists.

She circled me; circled _me_! Keeping her chest out, shoulders high and nose up, she was in the predatory pose, making daddy so proud.

"I know who I am." She didn't hesitate in standing her ground, expressing what she thought was right. Saying what was on her mind without a damn about what I or anyone else thought.

"You're my blood." I reminded, keeping my pride in my chest as we circled, not breaking eye contact, looking just as deadly and bloodthirsty as a pair of starving lions to a gazelle. "Only you could have brought me out." I told her with a smirk.

Her mind, oh it was fun being in there, scratching around for the right memories she had to remember, finding so many secrets. Being able to fish through her childhood to know what she thought, to know everything she knew.

"You killed all those people." I frowned

"They took you away from me." However happy it made me to be able to watch her grow as a ghost; having to watch her grow in a different home, with a different family, with a different bitch of a mother and limp dick of a father, I couldn't stand that. "But I made them pay." I laughed, circling around in joy.

My little angel only had one father.

"I took all their children away from them." I may have dabbled in other killings at night…Such as her 'replacement father.'

"But now." I raised my glove and tucked a loose bang of her hair behind her ear delicately, watching her with furrowed brows as she jerked away. "That's all over." I lied, it would never be over, never. How I had to die and lose my little girl while everyone else could keep their children and live.

"Come here." I curve my blade for her to follow me, "I've got something to show you." Like the good little girl she was, she listened, following me just a few steps behind.

A bit of a present, to start all over again…This time…I had her to help me…

"But this isn't Springwood!" She cried and I laughed loudly.

"Every town has an Elm Street!"

It would be like father like daughter.


	5. It's A Punishing Thing

He had not expected the small pipe to be stabbed into his chest, right through one of the large scars he had gained from a few piggy’s that had gotten lucky. He was sure the shock had shown on his face, Kathryn’s eyes had also gotten wide when she had realized just what she had done to her dearest daddy.

But she didn’t care, she twisted it further into his stomach, kissed his nose and told him “Happy father’s day.” If he hadn’t of been in so much pain, he would have laughed at the corny ass line. She had always been able to tickle his funny bone, even from the small childish things she did when she was little.

She was relieved when he had been blown to pieces, and he had neither the heart, nor the strength to crush her hopes. So he writhed in his dream world, waiting for the dream demons to return to him like they always did during his weakest moments, while Kathryn and her ‘friends’ continued with their lived, forever changed from his influence.

And now, now he stood above her sleeping form, barely strong enough to keep himself materialized. It had been years since their encounter and the words “Freddy’s dead” had all but weakened him to a point of non-existence. Yet, despite how she had ‘killed’ him and his hold on the children’s dreams, he couldn’t help but feel proud of her.

Though she didn’t stand for what he did, and though she didn’t kill beside him like he would always hope, she had certainly proved herself to be a Krueger, and that had made him proud.

"But really Kathryn, a pipe bomb?" He smirked, watching her peaceful form, alone in her bed with the comforter up to her chin. "Didn't I teach you better then to play with the other kid’s toys?" He whispered, not wanting to wake her, it wouldn’t go well for either of them, him; too weak to put up any kind of fight and her; just beginning to get past the incident and move on with her life, accepting more of who she really was.

That wasn’t to say he wasn’t mad. Oh no, he was furious that he could be beaten so easily by just a little explosion. It had taken him almost five years before he could manage to tread through the dream realm again and even then, all the souls and fear that he had accumulated had vanished from him, leaving him a shell of his former self.

He had only appeared to Kathryn now in means to take revenge.

"You think you've killed me." Push came to shove and he felt his burnt brows furrow under his melted skin, his vision turned red while his teeth began to elongate into razor sharp knives, his anger changed him into what he really was; a monster bent only on the kill. “Well, you’ve got another thing coming.” His right hand twitched to dig it’s blades into her pale and unsuspecting flesh.

His lifted his hand, his muscles tensing under the force of his anger causing him to shake as he prepared to lung for the kill. The air in the room shifted from the tension that resonated from him, and it suddenly felt like he was being burnt alive again.

But then, then she rolled over in her sleep, no longer having her back to him, but now facing him, her face slack with sleep, and her hair cradling around her head like a halo. She cuddled the pillow she laid on closer to her head, sighing in contentment.

He gritted his teeth, trying to will his now quaking hand to thrust into her; to kill her, to maim her, to punish her for destroying him. He bit his lip, copper invading his mouth from the sheer force of digging in with his teeth.

He growled lowly in his throat; he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t kill the only thing that was left of his humanity. No child of Elm Street had ever lived after running into him, not a one. Until her, she would be the first and only that would ever get away. But that didn’t mean that he wouldn’t let her suffer a bit.

Smirking to himself, he slowly lowered his hand, carefully pushing away a few of her stray locks with one of his blades, tucking them behind her ears, minding himself as to not wake her. Then, feeling the moment was right, he gently sat his index claw right in the center of her forehead, watching with morbid fascination as her once calm face quickly distorted into one of displeasure; like her good dream gone suddenly took an unexpected turn for the worst.

"Sweet dreams, Kathryn" His sharp and bloody teeth gleaming in the rising sun, giving a small chuckle as he tipped both his head and his hat before vanishing forever more from his little girl’s life. He had made his peace with her, silently vowing that after this last visit he would never again bother with neither Kathryn Krueger, nor Maggie Burroughs.

Instead, he had to find a way to get the children to fear him again. Certainly there had to be something in hell that could be useful.


	6. It's An Instinctual Thing

I wasn't so much frantic as I was annoyed at the lack of sleep I was getting and the fact that the nurse who had disappeared half an hour ago still wasn't back with my coffee. Half an hour ago…We should have been done by half an hour!

Didn't the doctor say that the due date wasn't till August? But no, the kid decided now was when she was gonna be born. Nine months of holding Loretta's hair back as she pukes her guts up in the bin. Nine months of having to deal with the most random mood swings in history. Nine months of such sexual tension that I could choke teenager's with it (that's mostly where it went to anyways.) God hath no wrath like a pregnant woman!

All I could say was that the kid had better be ready when it poked its head out, because from that moment on, its life was gonna be hell.

I sighed and ran my hand through my hair, breathing out through my nostrils the smoke of my third cigarette for this lovely five o clock morning. I glanced up to the room across from me, where the 'miracle of life' was taking place.

Quite honestly by Loretta's screaming it sounded more like some doctor was getting his hand bitten off by the rapid contraction suffering woman.

I'm just glad it's not me.

A moment two more of this and it suddenly got quiet, I watched as the silver doorknob twisted before a doctor stood in front of me, dressed in a slightly bloody blue scrub. He smiled happily at me as I resisted my urge to strangle the grin off his face.

"Congratulations Mr. Krueger, it's a girl." Or however they say it when they inform you of the gender of your first born child. Not that it's a surprise, that's why we had the ultrasound in the first place.

I stood from my seat, putting out my cigarette in the bin beside the chair, and walked forward as he scuttled out of my way.

Nurses were checking things out on the heart monitor, filling out paperwork on a clipboard, or just standing around to witness the 'miracle' of naming the child. Loretta was already half asleep and sweaty and in her arms in a little pink bundle was the little peach cream skin that was my child.

I stopped when my eyes locked on her half opened ones; my blue's clashing with her brown, which were sure to be a different color by tomorrow. Everything in my brain just flushed out and my chest tightened in a way that my heart moved up to my throat. If I hadn't of gotten rid of my cigarette I'm sure I'd of swallowed it whole at this moment.

The next thing I know, she's in my arms. She's gurgling what her eyes shone to me as a laugh. I cradled her to my chest while my hands supported her, a little voice out of nowhere tells me to mind her head and I do. I touch her little hand and she grabs a finger, holding it tightly in a grip that only a baby is capable of; so weak, but strong enough that you just can't get away.

"Kathryn." I whisper and place my lips to her forehead. Her eyes only shined at me in glee and I knew from that moment.

'This kid's gonna be the death of me.'


	7. It's A Survival Thing

"Freak!"

I watched in what could only be described as pure rage, history repeating itself before by blood red eyes. The same place, the same way, the same torn look that the victim gave. My blades dug into my knee, reminding myself that there was nothing I could do for her during the day.

"Weirdo!"

She turned and struggled at the boys who pulled her hair, at the frilly bitches who yanked and ripped her dresses and tripped her 'innocently' till she scraped her knees and elbows. She cried as they pursued her every moment of the day, making every second of her life as hellish as could be.

"Monster!"

At some point I had stood, and walked directly up to the swine who had called my girl such a name, swiping at him only for my hand to phase through his neck. I yelled in fury, swiping again and again, but all I could do was watch as he laughed at my attempts to slash him down.

You’re on your bed, crying yourself to sleep. Whimpering my name and for me to come and save you. I watched as you hugged your pillow like it was your only lifeline and soothed my hand through your hair, the strands phasing through my burnt flesh.

"Fight, baby girl." I whispered. "Push when they pull. Bite when they bark."  
Time has no meaning to the dead like me, baby girl. But when I have to sit at the foot of your bed and watch you change with the days, it could only make me feel old.

No more candy red ribbon’s in your hair because the bitchy pigs would pull them out. I remember when you were so happy and proud, running up to me to show me that you had learned to put them in yourself.

"Get her!"

No more rosey dresses because they got in the way when you ran. I recall you twirling a little curtsey to show off every new outfit you got. I'd bow to you, take your hand, and we'd dance a childish waltz.

"Hurt her!"

No more smiles, that's what hurt the most. They punched out so many teeth that you grew too self conscious about your grin. I miss your smile Kathryn; no matter how many teeth you lose or have to replace, your smile always shines when I see it.

"Let's play..."

No more nice Little Kathryn, because that grin in your eyes when you broke that boy's nose had me thinking that maybe it’s not that bad.

After all, it’s Darwin’s Law; only the strongest survive.


	8. It's A Subconscious Thing

The caretaker had gone so far as to dress her like she was her personal doll; going to the local stores to buy her a dress with dozens of little yellow flower prints, blossoming to give her a look of sunshine. She made her wear long white stockings that disappeared under her brown mary-janes, shining and unscuffed. She had wanted to do her hair, but she threw the biggest fit she could make. Nobody touched her hair but Daddy.

"Kathryn, that man in the hallway is gonna be your new daddy." The woman reached for her pigtails, small and bland but for the brown that was her natural hair color. She slapped at the hands and screamed till she had her way. "Fine, fine! I won't put them in." The lady grumbled and left her alone, "Troublesome child."

Nobody but Daddy could play with her hair; she made that clear when she put in her old candy red ribbons, by herself. Her sunflowers look blemished by the only trace of vibrant red she had.

"You wait out here while I and your new parents talk in the other room." She was set on a chair in the hallway, too little for the big chair, her small legs swung over the edge and hung down with her feet unable to touch the floor.

Not only was she small, but she had felt small. That morning was like every other till the grown-ups had come in and all the children were told to go into the playroom. That's where they were all told to go when someone was there to look at them. She was by herself, never playing with anyone, nobody played with her after she had punched the house bully, Nikki.

She was coloring, making a dinosaur in a book green before a very tall man came up to her. She didn't make eye contact with him, nor did she talk to him. Daddy said never talk to strangers, so she just continued to fill in the white on her dinosaur.

But he sat down beside her and she became trapped in that instant.

"Hello, there." He smiled, she turned at looked at him with her big doe eyes not really understanding why he wanted to talk to her of all the children who were more opt to smile and play.

He was skinny, like a stick. He had big blue eyes and freckles covering his cheeks and big nose. His mouse brown hair liked to hang slightly over his eyebrows where he had a scar going through the left. Kathryn was always told by daddy "don't judge a person by their looks" but she didn't like this man.

"What are you coloring?" She was scared by him, he wouldn't go away and she didn't know how to tell him how. She looked around for help, biting her bottom lip but the only one who was trying to help her was the caretaker and she just smiled and mouthed for her to talk to him.

"A-A Dinosaur." She stuttered and played with her green crayon in hopes the man would catch her nervousness and go away. It seemed to work because not long after the man got up and moved over to the lady who came in with him.

She was a brunette, with big round earrings in her ears. She had bright green eyes and clear skin. Her lips looked odd, Kathryn thought, they were big and puffy covered in that waxy stuff that she used to draw on the walls within mommy and daddy's room.

Shortly after, she was placed where she was now; in a big chair, in a big room.

Poor, small, Kathryn.

She had half a mind to get up and run off, but she knew she'd get yelled at for it. She stayed in place and waited like the good girl, butterflies stirring in her stomach while she did. When the door opened back up she thought she was going to be sick as the tall strange man stepped out and over to her, his lady talking to the caretaker by the door.

He crouched down to be at eye level with her and smiled, this disturbed her to a point she started to nervously shift in her seat. "Are you ready to go home, Maggie?"

She stopped moving. What had he just call her?


	9. It's A Revenge Thing

It was when I was still trying to understand my powers, shortly after I woke up in my boiler room and found my face burnt beyond recognition. I was learning to master it, control and learn exactly what I could do.

Granted it had taken me a whole lot of killing before I could actually see her, a lot of time for me to get used to my new self, for me to even have enough strength to create a form that wouldn't scare her to death.

I didn't want her to run from me, I wanted to see her, to show her what she had done, to tell her exactly how bad she had been. I wanted to punish her, but in the way that I would have when I was still alive.

I wanted her to know just how bad she had been.

Finding her was easy, it was like she had a certain dream with her and it stuck out like a red thumb in my mind. I just followed the wispy cloud till I found her. She was still in Springwood, hadn't moved anywhere but to an old orphanage. My blood boiled however, how dare they think they could cart her off to the next family that wanted her. I was her only family, and I was going to stay her only family.

I had waited till she fell asleep. I even went so far as to clean the place and usher the other girls outside to play. Uncle Freddy had things to do and they couldn't be in the way for it. Granted, I didn't restore the whole house, only the room we would be in. The living room, it was where we used to play inside. Where I would sit her on my lap and tell her stories while I played with her hair.

Much like what I was doing now.

Cradling her to my chest, rocking her back and forth while she listened to my fake heartbeat. I let my fingers brush through her browning locks, disguised as my old self before I was burned, couldn't have her scared off now could I? I would show her though, oh yes in time I would show her exactly what she had done to me, exactly what her lies had done.

"Daddy, where did you go?" I had to smile at her question, of course she wasn't told what they did to me. They would never tell her for fear of making her guilty but that's exactly what I wanted her to feel.

"Daddy had to go away, Princess." I purred, letting my voice be soft and suave like it once was, not like nails, not like I was mad or crazed for revenge. I'll admit I missed the old days with her, the day's when I wasn't trying to kill every kid on the block.

"When are you gonna be back?" I smiled, and dropped the small strands of her hair I had been holding, setting my hand on her shoulders I pulled her away to kiss her forehead. She didn't understand that this was a dream, she didn't know I was dead, she wasn't told I was murdered by the parents of who were once her friends.

"Soon Princess." I whispered and rubbed my nose against her's. "Daddy's gonna be back very soon." I grinned "But Daddy doesn't think he should come home, Princess." She gave me a confused stare. "Daddy doesn't think he wants to go home to a little liar."

Her eyes widened and I had just wanted to laugh, she knew. Oh she remembered what she did.

"W-What do you mean?" Such a little actor your growing up to be Kathryn, shame you couldn't have sooner, it just might have saved someone's life.

I smiled at her, it was an unnerving smile, one that I would use to give her letting her know that she was in trouble. My fingers dug into her shoulders painfully, locking her in place so that her struggling would get her nowhere. "You told on me, Kathryn." I said "Even though you promised not to."

I was expecting her to lie again like all children do, but Kathryn was my girl, my little girl who knew better than to lie to me. She pouted, pursing out her bottom lip in a way that touched my heart. She may have been growing up but it was cute actions like that, that reminded me of just how young and adorable she still was.

"I-I'm sorry, Daddy." She whimpered, her big doe eyes filling with tears and hoping to stop the waterworks I hushed her and hugged her back to my chest.

"Its okay, Pumpkin." I whispered and cradled her back and forth once more. "Daddy just wants to know what made you tell." So that he could kill the dickless piggies. "Just tell Daddy, about all the bad people that made him go away."

So that the killing could start again.


	10. It's A Noble Thing

She grew up so fast; from a little dress and pigtails, to shorts and her hair cut. It didn't take long for some piggy-less family to catch notice of her in the window, and adopt her in pity from the 'family' events. I watched her, and even as she forgot me, forgot what she did to me, I loomed over her like a hawk.

I damn well made sure her 'daddy' was taking care to make her happy. My story was still on the streets, and people still feared my name, it was easy for me to make my way into his dreams, where I made it clear that if I couldn't grow up with my own daughter, no other wannabe father could.

So, it became just her mother, who was too grief stricken to ever re-marry. From that point on, it was easy.

But then she got older; it was out of shorts, and into skirts. The modern day definition of sex appeal that the fellow teenagers and TV drilled into her head; peer pressure, what a bitch. Her brain was rotting but she still had the common sense to feed it textbooks. She went to college, straight out of high school.

If I had raised her, I'd have the common sense to give her a few firm taps if ever she rebelled. 'Mother' was against it, too goody to get a little physical with her punishments. If I had raised her, she would have never gotten her first taste of alcohol at some frat party in room 302. If I had raised her, she would have never of been raped.

But I didn't raise her; I couldn't tell her that she had done wrong. I couldn't hold her when she cried telling me about how she had been violated.

I couldn't raise her.

But I could certainly raise hell on the man who used my little girl as his whore.


End file.
